by TJ Nichols
“This den visit. I’ve been thinking, and I’m not sure.” He picked up the papers with the Mythological Services logo across the top.
“We need to understand them better. The mytho training at the academy doesn’t prepare officers for the reality, not when there are so many kinds and so many misleading stories.” He’d almost said “outright lies.” “My understanding is that it’s a mytho club.”
“Prostitution ring and drug trafficking.” The captain tapped the newspaper.
“If you really thought that, we’d have shut them down long ago.” Was a satyr den really that different from the BDSM clubs where humans went to play? Or even different from nightclubs where people went to score drugs and pick up a partner for the night?
“I’m sending the media liaison officer, you, and two other investigators. I’ll request a couple of volunteers from the uniformed officers. If it’s all above board, which I suspect it will be, we won’t be able to hold the owner for licensing violations and we’ll let him go.”
Charges would be dropped. While that would please Edra and Leonaris, there could be further trouble just because they held the satyr on such a flimsy charge in the first place. The drugs had been tested—all Bliss—and the premises searched. Nothing had been found. One human using Bliss with a fake ID wasn’t enough.
That the human had confessed to using a fake mytho ID and being a regular was actually in the satyrs’ favor. Clearly he hadn’t been sold into sexual slavery. Jordan could’ve told the cops that, but it would have meant revealing his secret.
“Did you want me to pursue the fake ID?” He didn’t mention the others that had been turned in and never actioned.
“I’ve handed it on to fraud.”
Jordan let out a sigh of relief. The sooner he wrapped up this mytho work, the sooner he’d get to move on, but he was having a strange kind of fun. The mytho community wasn’t what he expected.
JORDAN HAD half an hour before he needed to be at the den. His body hummed with expectation, even though it was an official visit. There would be no Bliss on the menu, but he was half-hard just thinking about it. The sweet taste on his tongue and the rolling ecstasy buzzed through his blood. The hunger had begun, and he couldn’t switch it off.
He dropped the towel on the floor and pulled open his underwear drawer. On one side were sensible, normal boxer briefs in an array of sensible, boring colors—gray and navy blue and black. The other side—separated by socks—was a rainbow of color and texture.
He stared at the underwear, not knowing what to choose. He couldn’t wear the lingerie he usually wore to the den, could he? No. He grabbed a pair of black boxers. It was a work visit, even if his dick thought otherwise. He was already craving the release of Bliss, so he closed his eyes and gave himself a casual stroke. It was tempting to take the edge off now, but if he did, he’d run late.
Maybe he could get some Bliss to use at home.
No. He released his dick. No Bliss.
He shoved the boxers back into the drawer. If he couldn’t get Bliss, he wasn’t going to totally deprive himself. He slipped on a pair of jewel-blue satin panties that reminded him of Edra’s eyes… which was totally the wrong thought, as it did nothing to wilt his wood. Inviting Edra around had been the wrong thing to do. Now it was too easy to imagine a different ending to that night.
But he didn’t change his underwear. No one would know. However, he didn’t add a slip, because that could be too easily revealed. He shivered, wanting Edra to tuck the strap away again, wanting his touch to stray lower.
Edra had seemed interested. If Jordan had done more than stand there like an awkward lump, maybe something would’ve happened.
He had no idea what lesser dragons liked or if Edra was straight or gay. Did mythos even identify like that? He knew their relationships sometimes crossed species.
It didn’t matter, because he wouldn’t go there. He couldn’t do anything with a mytho, no matter how hot and intriguing. What he needed was a nice, normal, human boyfriend—not a hookup, not Bliss and his own thoughts. He yanked on a good pair of jeans, boots, and a nice shirt. It wasn’t what he’d wear to a human club, but this was business.
And if he kept saying that, he might start to believe it.
He grabbed a jacket on his way out, just in case the weather turned.
Several officers were waiting outside the club. A couple were smoking. Edra was standing to the side, talking to a young satyr wearing only a stylish black leather kilt-like garment. Jordan admired the cut of the skirt for a moment and then nodded at Edra, deliberately avoided his gaze, and greeted his colleagues.
He managed to avoid looking at Edra as the satyr showed them around the club, and Jordan pretended to be as amazed as his colleagues when they learned about the Bliss rooms. They were stunned that someone watched over the users. To Jordan, it was good business to make sure everyone had a good time and didn’t have a negative reaction.
There was a time when he had entered that room with his heart beating hard as he talked himself into taking Bliss. That was a couple of years ago. He’d started doing a bit of undercover work, and one of his contacts had mentioned it. The contact had used a den out of the city, claiming he was too well known—like many criminals, he thought himself far more of a player than he actually was. Months later, after working horrendous hours and having no life, Jordan passed the den on the way to a gay bar.
It stood out because of the protest posters. If not for them, he’d never have known where it was. He never made it to the bar to hook up.
“So while someone is high, you could do anything to them?” one of the officers asked. “Sell them to someone else to use?”
“No. The user has full control of their body,” Darian said. He looked at Edra for help. Jordan noticed a frost between them, even though they were being cordial. “Satyr men don’t take Bliss, so I can’t tell you what it’s like.” He smirked. “Edra?”
Jordan glanced at Edra, who was on a first-name basis with the satyr. Of course he was, and when Edra was here, he went out back.
“Bliss isn’t a stimulant or an erection powder. It’s an arousal drug. It teases the senses, quickens the heart. Sensations intensify, and the brain does most of the work.” Edra frowned, and his gaze flitted over the cops before it settled on Jordan for a moment too long. Jordan looked away, his semi pressing on his jeans uncomfortably. “Bliss creates lust and, if the user gives in, orgasm.”
Jordan had never once thought about dragging himself out of the haze. Should he try it to be sure? What if he couldn’t?
“Like a date-rape drug but the user wants it,” another officer said.
Darian flattened his ears and wrinkled his nose, his expression pure disgust. “What is wrong with you humans?”
Around Jordan the cops bristled.
“Bliss doesn’t incapacitate the user. It’s for pleasure. Satyrs created it so their partners would be more receptive all year round. Satyr women only come into heat once a year.”
“Like an animal,” the man next to Jordan muttered.
Somehow Edra heard, and his sharp gaze landed on the speaker. “We’re all animals. You’re a mammal. Human women come into heat once a month.”
“We do not.” One of the two women crossed her arms and looked furious.
Jordan was about to say something, but Edra caught his eye.
Edra tilted his head as though confused. “Is there not a time when you’re more receptive to sex than the rest of the month? When your body wants to get pregnant?” Edra paused for a moment, but didn’t seem to expect an answer. “Bliss is simply a way to get off. Mythos have been using it for centuries for pleasure.”
“What are the risks?” Jordan thought he should get involved despite Edra’s warning. It would be odd if he said nothing all night. “If you have someone watching, there must be a danger.”
Darian looked at him, and for a moment Jordan thought he was going to say something that would give him away. His pulse quicke
ned for the wrong reason. “We monitor heart rate. Mostly someone watches to be sure no user touches another. Assault is a major crime in our community, far worse than theft.” He twitched his nose in a disgusted sniff.
Jordan wasn’t going to argue. TVs could be replaced, but other things couldn’t be.
When he’d been here, had the satyr on duty been making sure he was safe from mythos, or that the mythos were safe from him? God, had they thought he was the danger?
Lust melted under the mortification that he was the hazard—the unknown and unreliable human who could turn on them in a moment. Yet they had let him in. Why would they open their doors to any human?
“Now let’s go out back to where we run our prostitution ring,” Darian said with a grin.
Every cop in the room stared at him.
Edra shook his head. “I told you not to make that joke. It’s not funny. It’s a bar, nothing more.”
Jordan didn’t believe that. He’d never been allowed out back for a drink. Yet through the door, there was a bar, stacked with good liquor and some he’d never heard of—mytho brews probably. The bartender served them all water with slices of lemon and lime.
Some kind of music played in the background, and while the area wasn’t big, it seemed like a nice place to hang out. He sipped his water and smiled. What ugly view were those heavy curtains hiding?
Then he realized the curtains were all around the room. He turned and studied the space more closely. It was too small compared to the front.
Edra’s smile had become a little more forced.
It wasn’t just a bar. Something else happened here, and someone was about to lie. Jordan caught Edra’s gaze and lifted his eyebrow.
Darian clopped his way over to a curtain, his hooves glinting in the golden light. He drew back a curtain to reveal a little alcove. Plush cushions covered the wood floor. With the curtain drawn, it would be a nice place to hide and make out. It was much nicer than a human bar. The floor wasn’t sticky, and they seemed to care more about their patrons.
So why wasn’t he ever allowed out back?
Edra stood in the middle of the room, his hands behind his back. “This is the bar. Much like human clubs, mythos come here to meet, talk, and hook up. The only difference is that we don’t hide it and duck down alleys or go to cheap motels. We go in there.”
That was almost the truth, but Jordan was sure Edra was hiding something.
“So there’s no prostitution or trafficking?” one of the investigators asked. Jordan was glad David hadn’t been sent. He would have been making off-color jokes to the other cops all night, acting like he was a big man telling the truth they were all too blind to see.
Darian flicked his ears back. “We like willing partners. Why do humans not like that?”
“We do,” Jordan said before anyone could get snarky and start an argument. “But because you are so open about sex, there are people who think you’re acting immorally.”
“That makes no sense. We’ve always been honest about what we do. Because we are open and truthful, people think we’re lying?” Darian stamped a hoof.
Edra said something to Darian that was too quiet to hear. Then Edra faced the cops. “We have a cultural barrier. Humans tend to see sex as shameful, and satyrs and most mythos celebrate it. It’s fun.” He shrugged. “Why did humans make it bad?”
Everyone was suddenly busy drinking their water.
With no scandal to find, the questions asked and answered, and Darian pissed off, everyone started to leave, and Jordan slipped his jacket on. The night was still young, and he could go out, though he wanted to stay in the den and discover what really happened. The taste of Bliss was on his tongue, and there was a need in his blood that wouldn’t be sated with some random hookup or his hand.
Edra stepped out of the den and closed the door behind him. “Thank you for coming. I hope this has been useful. If you have any further questions, please call me.” He managed to sound sincere as he handed out business cards. “I’m the mytho liaison. I’m here to help.”
“What are you?” one of the men asked.
“Mytho,” Edra replied without missing a beat.
“No, like—oof.” The officer was shut up with an elbow to the ribs.
“It’s rude to ask,” the elbower muttered.
“Yes it is,” Edra said. “You’ve seen a glimmer of what our world was like tonight. Like you and all your cultures, we have traditions, and we simply ask that they be respected. Thank you for visiting.”
Jordan said goodbye to a few of the cops as they started to drift away. He walked toward Edra as though he had more questions, but Edra gave a small shake of his head.
“I just wanted to say thank you.” Did Edra think he wanted Bliss?
He did, but he wasn’t going to admit to it.
Edra relaxed a little and grinned—properly grinned so it lit his eyes. It wasn’t the tight, forced, polite smile he’d worn all night. “That went better than I expected.”
“I thought it went worse.” Some of the questions had made him embarrassed to be human.
Edra walked down the steps. “I’m heading to the train station. You?”
“Same.”
For a little while they walked in silence. Jordan wanted to say something, but he didn’t know what. As the station drew closer, he finally spoke. “Why do they let humans in at all?”
“To show there’s nothing going on. They shouldn’t, but they don’t want to be secretive, because that only creates rumors. They won’t from now on.” Edra licked his lip. “Darian gave me something for you.”
Jordan’s heart flipped over. “Why?”
“You were a good customer, and he’s sad to lose you.”
“Or he’s bribing a cop.”
“You don’t have to take it.”
Jordan’s fingers curled. He wanted it. “I don’t see why humans can’t take it. In Greece it’s allowed. They’ve revitalized their tourism by including mytho tours, much like Amsterdam and pot.”
They scanned their cards and went into Powell Street Station.
It was only then that Jordan realized he had no idea where Edra lived. “I’m surprised you catch the train.”
“What, you thought I flew everywhere?”
Maybe he had. It would certainly save on public transport.
Edra smiled and shook his head. “I’d need to bring clothes and have somewhere to shift and change so I don’t get arrested for public indecency.”
“Oh.” Jordan put his hands in his pockets. “So what line are you on?”
“Same as you, but the other direction. Pine Street.”
Around Lafayette Park area and in Cow Hollow there was a high mytho population, so that made sense. It was only a couple of blocks from Vlash’s store. Now he didn’t know what to say. If Edra were just another colleague, they’d talk about whatever sport was on or a case or something equally mundane. Work seemed like the safest bet, since he didn’t know if Edra was into sports.
“Thank you for the tour. I wondered what happened out back.” He glanced at Edra and wondered if he’d get to know the truth if he asked. There was only one way to find out. “Though I think you left out a bit.”
“What are you trying to ask me?” Edra faced him. His blue tongue glided over his lip. What was wrong with him? Jordan had never found a mytho attractive before, and now he couldn’t get Edra out of his head.
Jordan couldn’t speak. He swallowed but couldn’t look away.
Edra stepped closer and lowered his voice so no one else heard. “Yes, I go out back. I have a few shots of absinthe and hook up with a satyr. No one fucks like a satyr.”
Did Edra top or bottom? If Jordan were taking him home—which he wasn’t—he’d ask. There were other things to do, but it was nice to know beforehand. The tip of Edra’s tongue darted out as he scented the air, and then he closed the gap so there was a scant foot between them.
Shit… he knew exactly what Jordan was thinking. Jordan wan
ted to step back. No, he wanted to step forward and see what kissing him would be like. Fuck. And Edra had a baggie full of Bliss. That would be a good night and then some. His brain couldn’t keep up with the tumble of thoughts, each one more debauched than the last.
The corner of Edra’s lips turned up, and he murmured. “Like I said, one doesn’t fuck a satyr. That would be a waste of a cock.”
Jordan glanced down, hating the extra couple of inches of height Edra had on him. And the many that a satyr would have beneath his kilt. Jordan was an average human in every aspect, with no special talents beyond putting on eyeliner and lingerie for his own entertainment.
Yet, Edra was close enough to kiss. And when he looked at Jordan, it was as though he might be something delicious. He wanted to be Edra’s something delicious. Jordan lifted his gaze. “You’re braver than I am.”
Edra laughed. “That’s not bravery. I just know what I like. You?”
Were they actually having this conversation? If Edra was into satyrs…. “I don’t think I can compete.”
“Wasn’t asking you to.” He brushed Jordan’s hand with his fingers.
Jordan leaned in to kiss him, to see if he could, but Edra leaned away.
Jordan stepped back and looked up at the train schedule. His jaw tightened. He’d totally misread what was happening. Three horrible minutes to wait. He could walk away and go and get drunk somewhere, but his feet wouldn’t move. Why would the ground not open up beneath him? He shouldn’t think that. People had been swallowed by sinkholes that had closed up during the collapse. His face burned, and he didn’t know where to look.
Edra was still standing too close.
“I don’t know you well enough to kiss,” he hissed, barely loud enough for Jordan to hear.
“What?” Jordan shot him a glare, not sure he had heard right. He just wanted the train to arrive so he could flee.
Edra couldn’t quite look Jordan in the eye. “Kissing is intimate…. I don’t kiss.”
